Saturday Night Fever
by Miriala
Summary: They say alcohol tends to bring out the truth in people when consumed in large enough quantities. Kyle knows that Stan just so loves to consume that amount, and even more. Revelations are made, feelings are felt, words are said, that kind of drunk love fic. Style and fluff. No relation to the movie "Saturday Night Fever" at all.


**Alright, alright, alright! I'm back, bitches!**

 **This here be a little something I whipped up in a few hours, based on a true story that happened the night before. I was bored the next day and decided that Stan and Kyle would fit well into me and my friend's roles. I have changed a few things for the sake of having some kind of story and plot instead of just drunk rants. And no, I'm not saying who I'm supposed to be in this story. Take a guess, have fun, whatever.**

 **By the way, the title of this thing has absolutely no relation to the movie with the same title. No dancing is to be read about in here, and there sure as hell ain't no disco music either. Though the Beegees have a few good songs and the movie isn't bad at all. Take a look at it some day!**

 **Anyway, allons-y, chers lecteurs!**

Saturday night. Usually, this night was reserved for outings with friends, parties, special activities that one couldn't do during the week. For a few other people, Saturday night meant staying at home and doing their own thing, like watching a movie with their partner or cooking or just relaxing with a book. For students that actually cared about their grades, this night was a fantastic opportunity to get ahead in their homework and multiple projects that their teachers had dished out to them in the past few days. A Saturday night had many uses, each unique to the person experiencing it, as each person was different from the next.

Now, while Kyle was part of the later category of people that cared about their education, Stan was more of the former, out partying and getting completely wasted, while fully knowing that he would sourly regret it the next morning when he had to go to work. Warning the raven-haired teen about how he would feel the morning after, or recalling past bad experiences, did nothing to deter him once his mind was set.

So, Kyle had given up, vaguely hoping that Stan would perhaps/maybe/possibly realize on his own that he was overdoing it nearly every time he started to drink. It had been a year since he'd given up. And on this particular Saturday night, he _didn't even try_ to hope on behalf of the lost cause that was his best friend.

It was also on this particular night that Kyle had once again chosen to stay home and study instead of getting drunk with his friends. Stan had begged him to come along, but the redhead had refused all attempts from his friend to convince him in attending Craig's birthday celebrations. Later, Kyle had asked him why _he_ was even going, given that he hated Craig with a passion.

"Its just common curtesy, Kyle. I know him, he knows me, so he invited me and I'm going." The raven had answered like it was the simplest thing in the world.

"In that, case, we should be attending the birthdays of every person in town, since we know everyone." Kyle had retorted.

"You're absolutely right, Kyle!"

"You're terrible, Stan."

And that had been the end of that.

So there Stan was, drinking his wits away, while Kyle peacefully studied for his history exam next week. It was only October, but important exams were quickly appearing over the horizon, and he didn't want to get a bad grade on it just because he was out having fun. Kyle loved drinking as much as the next person – unless that person was Stan, in which case, he was nowhere near his level – but school took the top priority.

He was noting stuff down in the margins of his book when his phone vibrated on the table next to his right arm. He glanced at it, seeing that someone had texted him and glanced at the time in the same movement. 8:30 pm. He went back to his notes, making a mental note to reply to whoever texted him later. It was probably Stan anyway, so he could definitely wait. Kyle wasn't yet in a mood to be disturbed by his friend's drunken rambling (because, yes, after only two hours, he probably was already drunk).

He was reading an interesting passage about the Russian Revolution when his phone vibrated again, three consecutive times. The redhead put down the pencil he had been absently chewing and picked up his phone. Just as he'd thought, it was indeed his best friend texting him. And he was indeed drunk.

 _Received 8:29 PM: Heeeey kyle watcha soin? U shoud be here_

 _Received 8:47 PM: Craigs partys amaaaaaaazin dude_

 _Received 8:47 PM: Bt craig suuuuucks i hate dat guy_

 _Received 8:48 PM: Nt u tho ur fkin cool kyle I lve u man_

Kyle looked at the messages and worked out what was typed through the typos with a slightly annoyed expression. He typed out his own reply quickly and got back to his textbook.

 _Sent 8:50 PM: Tequila sure is a sweet-talker._

He'd just found where he had left off when his phone vibrated twice more.

 _Received 8:51 PM: Fuck u kyle_

 _Received 8:51 PM: Ur nt cool anymre_

"Good. Glad to hear it. Maybe you'll leave me alone now." The teen grumbled under his breath and turned back to his textbook once again without replying.

He was allowed time to read until about half past nine when his phone vibrated once again, but this time it was a call. With a heavy sigh, Kyle abandoned trying to study this book and closed it with a soft clap and pushed it to the side. He picked up the offending device, saw that it was the expected person and answered as civilly as he could.

"Hello."

" _Hey! Kyle! Hi_!"

The redhead recoiled from the too loud, too cheery voice at the other end of the line. He lowered the volume on his phone as much as low as it possible, and he could still hear the music in the background with people's shouts and laughter.

"Hey, dude."

" _Oh my god hi! This party is amazing! But Craig fucking sucks ass, dude! And I hate everyone here, but – oh god there's shirtless people in the living room what the fuck?!_ "

"Okay…?" Kyle sighed. At the way he was slurring his words, he was pretty far gone, but not as far as he'd ever seen him. He hoped he wouldn't get to that point, but this was Stan: of course he would get to that point.

" _I wish you were here, dude. At least I'd have somebody I didn't hate to talk to._ "

"Isn't Kenny supposed to be there?" he asked.

" _Yeah but I dunno where he is! Probably fucking someone upstairs. Lucky son of a bitch. I wanna fuck somebody tonight too, but i can't find anyone!_ "

"Then in that case, I see you've befriended your bottle of tequila."

" _Ha ha ha! You're right, Kyle! Alcohol is the best friend you can have, because it always comforts you, no matter how shitty you're feeling! But you're still my best friend, Kyle. My super best friend, like Jesus with Buddha and Moses and shit._ "

"I'm glad to hear it, Stan." He tried to show some appreciation in his voice, though it wouldn't have mattered if he'd said it flatly. The raven was too inebriated to notice fine details anyway.

" _You know what I really want?_ " he asked seriously.

"No?"

" _I want a fucking cigarette._ "

"Then go smoke." He said flatly this time.

" _But I can't! I don't want to go outside and smoke because then people will know I do and they'll be asking me for some and my parents will know and I'll be fucked!_ "

"Then don't go." _Though, at the way you shouted that into the phone, I'm pretty sure the whole house knows now_ , he thought to himself.

" _Oh my fucking god why are there shirtless people here, Kyle?! Are we at a gay strip club or something?!_ "

"I don't know why people are shirtless, Stan, but I do know that you're at Craig's house."

" _Are you sure, Kyle? Because I don't recognize where I am._ "

"I can assure you, Stan." He patiently chewed on the end of the pencil he still had in his hand.

" _I don't believe you. Cartman says I should never trust a Jew._ "

Kyle's eye twitched in irritation. "And since when do you take Cartman's advice?" He wanted to tell Stan to go fuck himself, but refrained from doing so.

The raven gasped dramatically. " _You're right again, Kyle! Are you like a god or a clairvoyant or a mind-reader or something?! Oh god. I hope you can't read my mind right now! Oh god I'm so sorry I-_ "

The call was abruptly ended for some reason that Kyle didn't care to know. He sighed heavily and threw his phone on his bed across the room. Figuring that this was only the first of many drunken calls he'd be getting tonight, the redhead changed into more comfortable clothes and plopped down on his bed. He lazily searched for a movie on the web that he hadn't seen and set up the TV in his room for it. He went downstairs to get some chips and a soda, and started the movie when he returned.

About half an hour through the movie, his phone vibrated _again_ , for Stan was calling _yet again_. However, Kyle didn't answer. The movie he was watching was actually good and he wanted to finish it tonight. When the call stopped, he received a text, and looked at it.

 _Received 10:32 PM: Y u no anser me?_

Kyle began typing out a reply, but a string of texts interrupted him.

 _Received 10:32 PM: Kyle dude comeon_

 _Received 10:32 PM: Dammit i swer to gd bitch_

 _Received 10:33 PM: Me is more iportnt than_ _wtever te fuck ur doin_

He calmly continued typing out his original response and finally hit the send key.

 _Sent 10:34 PM: I'm watching a movie. What do you want?_

He returned his attention to the screen once he threw his phone down beside him. He munched on a chip, trying to be quiet in the suspense of the scene. He watched with attention while the people on screen entered a strange room filled with dense fog. The man walked in and followed the stone path above the fog up to the middle of the room, when he decided that stepping down into the mist would be a good idea. Kyle stopped chewing. The floor was covered with strange black cylinders. The man approached one and touched it lightly. The object stirred and cracked open, revealing a white creature covered in slime. Everything was silent on screen, mirroring the silence in the teen's room. But not for long.

Kyle jumped off the bed in a flurry of blankets and chips with a shout, his heart skipping a beat or two. He managed to stay on his feet, and glared at the object of offense vibrating at his feet, his breathing heavy as he tried to calm his wild heartbeat. He bent down and scooped up the phone. Aggressively, he pressed answer on the screen and growled.

"What."

" _H-hey Kyle! Did I disturb you?_ " Stan slurred innocently.

"Yes." The answer was short and dry.

" _Since when is a stupid movie m-more important than me, dude?_ " he feigned being hurt.

"Since it's a good one, and you're piss drunk." The teen growled.

" _Whatcha watching?_ "

"Prometheus."

" _Ooooooh! That's a good one! But they-they all die in the end, sooo it doesn't matter. Now come over here and have fun with uuuuuus!_ "

Kyle's eye twitched again as he sat down the edge of his bed. "I want to finish my movie. What do you want?"

" _You-you know how I said I wanted to smoke but I couldn't be-because I didn't want to share a-and I didn't want my parents to find out?_ "

"Hm?" Kyle replied.

" _Well, I smoked about half my pack tonight._ "

"Good for you, Stan. Its not good for you, but still, good for you."

" _Well anyway! I'm gonna let you get back to-to-to your movie because its a good one!_ "

 _Thank fuck_ , he thought. "Okay. Bye now."

" _Bye Kyle!_ "

Kyle pressed the key to end the call, but in the delay, he heard Stan shout something.

" _I love you K-_ "

And the line was cut.

The redhead looked at the screen with an upraised eyebrow, remembering the time his friend had gotten in a similar state when they were ten years old. The raven had said those words, then promptly told him to go fuck himself, and then said he loved him again. Kyle had thought he had grown out of drinking himself into a blind state after that whole episode, but he had never been so wrong about something in his life.

Kyle pushed those thoughts out of his head, glad that the line had cut before the end of his sentence. He had never known how to respond when someone expressed their appreciation or love for him, and as a result, he'd had very few romantic partners. Though, that hadn't been the only reason.

He shook his head, truly pushing his strange thoughts out of mind and went back to his movie. He was able to finish it without further interruption, this time, and it was nearly midnight when he finally stretched and got up from his bed. He still wasn't tired, and he was getting a bit worried about Stan's state of being. He cleaned up his mess of chips on the floor and finished off his soda before he grabbed a book from his shelf and sat down in his bed once more.

He set the book aside for now and texted his best friend.

 _Sent 11:56 PM: I'm done my movie, so feel free to call._

He set the device down in favor of the book. It was a horror story that he'd ordered online, written in French from Québec. It had looked interesting on the website and had many good reviews, and it helped that Kyle was quite fluent in the language. He opened the first page and began reading.

Two minutes later, he switched with his phone and sent a few messages to the raven since he hadn't yet answered.

 _Sent 11:58 PM: Yo._

 _Sent 11:58 PM: Are you dead?_

And he continued reading. The story was quite good, and despite stumbling over a few particular expressions, he understood what it was about: a man in his fifties, working as a psychiatrist in a hospital, one day receives the province's most famous horror writer as patient with strange circumstances surrounding him: the writer had tried to commit suicide after he had chopped off his ten fingers, and was now in a catatonic state, oblivious to the world. What could have possibly driven him to such extents?

Kyle only got that far when he received a message. He picked it up and read it.

 _Received 12:21 AM: Yea_

 _Sent 12:22 AM: That's a shame. I had a really good plan to kill you._

 _Received 12:22 AM: Dude, u gonnamhave a lot of time ta do dat_

 _Sent 12:25 AM: Am I now? How so?_

 _Received 12:30 AM: Immz die a lot of that_

 _Sent 12:31 AM: A lot of what? Please try and clarify._

He set his phone down and read while he waited for Stan to reply. He was relived that he was alive, but a bit worried that he was too drunk – again. He considered going over there and dragging him back to his house, but then he thought of Sharon and Randy that were probably still unpacking a few things from their recent trip to the Dominican Republic. He didn't want to cause trouble for the raven, so he'll let him go home when he's ready. Besides, he didn't feel like having a drunk teenager hanging onto him while he tried to bring him back home. And he also wasn't in the mood for loud music and people he didn't really like.

He frowned when his friend still hadn't shown sign of life. He sent another two messages.

 _Sent 12:47 AM: And you said_ I _was bad for ignoring you earlier… Look who's talking now. Or NOT talking, rather._

 _Sent 12:59 AM: Bitch I swear to god. Me is more important than alcohol._

He was about to set the device down again, but an incoming call made him stop the movement. Instead, he pressed the answer key and brought it to his ear.

"Hello."

" _Dude, don't ever_ dare _doubt that you're not important. You are soooooo fucking important, its unbe-unbelie-vable._ " Stan had much trouble getting that word out in his state, and it made Kyle crack a grin on the other side of the line despite himself.

"Really now? Are you sure that's not just the alcohol talking?" he chuckled.

" _Dude, I swear. If anyone says that y-you aren't important, they're wrong, and don't let anyone_ ever _con-convince you otherwise. You are the best person ever, and I don't know how I ever deserved you as a… a-a best friend, but know that you_ are _my best friend and I'm sooooooooo happy to have you in my life. I mean, I'm a cynical asshole – the doctor even said it – a-and yet you stay by me all the time. You-you're my super best friend Kyle and I-I-I love you, man. You're the best person I've ever met and I r-really hope I never lose you, Kyle. You're fucking amazing._ "

He raised an eyebrow at Stan's rant. He'd never known how to react to affection, and this time was no different. "Uh… thank you?"

" _I'm serious dude I- God why are there so many shirtless people? I'm still not sure we're not in a strip club right now. Hey ha-have I ever told you I'm bisexual?_ "

Well that there sure was a surprise. Everyone could tell, but every time Stan had been confronted about it, he had denied it like it was the end of the world. "No, you've never told me."

" _Y-yeah, well, I am. S-s-so that means that I pretty much like every guy that-that you find hot too._ "

"Well, its great that you told me, Stan." He replied with as much happiness he could throw into his tone. Which wasn't very much.

" _Yo-you're such a good friend Kyle, I fucking love you for that. I hope that when we're like sixty years old w-we still know each other and that you'll still be my friend so we can have a glass of wine together a-a-as good friends._ "

The redhead smiled slightly. "I hope so too, Stan. I would love that too."

" _Heidi is leaving with-with some guy in his pick-up. Dude! Do you- do you think she's gonna fuck him? I think she's gonna fuck him! Oh god! What if she's drunk and he ends up raping her?_ " the raven whispered into the phone, genuine concern in his voice.

"Who's the guy?" Kyle asked.

" _I don't know!_ "

"Describe him to me."

" _He's kinda tall, he's fat, a-a-and he has dark hair._ "

"That's Cartman. Heidi's boyfriend." He said flatly. He remembered Cartman telling him that he would be picking Heidi up tonight to bring her back home. He wouldn't be going to the party, seeing as how he hated Craig just as much as Stan, save for the fact that even alcohol couldn't persuade him to go.

" _They're dating?! What the fuck! I never knew that!_ " he exclaimed loudly.

"They've been dating for two years, dude."

" _Really? Wow! Ev-even Cartman has someone to fuck! You know, I've thought about fucking you, a few times._ "

"O-oh?" Kyle almost choked on his air.

" _Yeah dude! I mean, c-come on, who wouldn't have thought about it? You have an-an amazing body and you're a great person and I love you, you're my best friend, Kyle. S-seriously, you're great. I-I-I couldn't ask for a better friend. I complain about you a lot, I insult you, but deep down, you can't even begin to understand how much I fu-fucking appreciate you, man. You're amazing and don't let anyone ever tell you otherwise._ "

"I-I'm glad to hear it." He recovered his almost-bored-but-still-amused voice from earlier, even though Stan's words were playing in his head on repeat.

" _You're so silent, dude. S-say something!_ "

"I would be saying a lot of things, given enough whiskey." He answered truthfully.

" _Then come on down on over here, Kyle! Oh hey! There's Kenny! Here, talk to him!_ "

Kyle waited patiently while Stan passed his phone to the blond teen.

" _Hello?_ " a young, but gruff voice was heard.

"Hey Ken." Kyle said. In the background, he could hear the raven laughing and talking to others.

" _Oh hey Kyle! How's it going?_ "

"Good, good. You?"

" _Pretty good too. Stan's feeling amazing, from the looks of it._ " He chuckled.

"Yeah, I bet he is." He said flatly.

" _That guy really doesn't know how to drink._ "

"No, he doesn't. Were you about to leave?"

" _I was but… I think I should stay and look after this idiot._ " He laughed.

"Yeah, that's what I was going to ask you. Just, like, make sure he doesn't drink anything else than water from here on out. And try to convince him to go home, if you can, too."

" _Already on it, captain._ "

"Thanks, Kenny. Can you pass me back Stan, please?" he requested.

" _Sure thing, here-_ "

" _Hey Kyle! You're back!_ " the raven greeted happily.

"Yes, I am, Stan. Now listen to me," he said seriously. "I know you're happy and drunk and all that, but I need you to drink some water now. Not tequila, not vodka. _Water_. You're gonna feel like shit tomorrow if you don't, so please listen to me. I'm trying to help you."

" _B-but I don't know where the water is!_ "

"Then ask Craig or Kenny to get you a bottle."

" _But I don't wanna disturb them! And I like drinking vodka! Oh hey, someone's leaving I gotta go say bye!_ "

And he hung up. That was the last Kyle heard from Stan himself that night. He waited until he received a text from Kenny, saying that Stan had safely made it home, before shutting his book and going to bed at a quarter past three in the morning.

All the while he was drifting into a state of slumber, the raven's drunken words played on repeat in his head. Okay, yes, he was piss drunk, but alcohol did tend to bring out a person's true feelings, so maybe… It didn't mater, anyway (actually, it did mater, immensely, he was just trying to convince himself otherwise) because Stan had said that he loved him as a _friend_. Still, it didn't stop Kyle from feeling a little flustered at his best friend's admission that he had thought about… _fucking_ him.

On one hand, he was overjoyed to hear that, seeing as how he had thought many times of doing the same to the raven. He had loved him as more than a friend since eighth grade, though the feeling had faded into a dull throb in the background of his mind, beating along with his heart, becoming a part of him. But at times, like when the redhead was drunk, that feeling became his whole heart and it took all his strength to keep it from bursting from his chest and into Stan's hands. He controlled himself to the best of his ability, because friendships like theirs were unique, and even though it took so much to break them, it required even more to try and fix them. When that was even possible.

Kyle was afraid, so he held back. He didn't wan to break what they had. It was more precious than anything to him.

That night – or morning, rather – Kyle fell asleep feeling conflicted between hope, fear, and simple happiness. Only time would tell whatever would happen to them.

 **For those of you who might be interested in knowing, the book that Kyle reads in here is called** _ **Sur le Seuil**_ **by Patrick Sénécal. Very psychological and intense, though it is written in French and has not been translated in English (to my knowledge). All that guy's books are something special and they're all good. Really, all of them are worth reading.**

 **Anyhoot, as you can maybe guess if you have a minimum of intelligence or intuition or some shit, this is not the end of this story. A second and third part will be made eventually, when inspiration strikes and when time is available. But, in the meantime, if you would be so kind, chers lecteurs, please sing that little song that we writers love to hear so much. We really appreciate it. For real. No joke. Thank you!**

 **Until next time – eventually.**

 **-Miri.**


End file.
